letters to you
by tatty ted
Summary: She writes letters to her mother. - —OC.
1. i — 10th January 2004

dear mummy,

you died today. five fifty this morning was your official time of death but the doctors said you were gone long before that. the doctors said you were brain dead, would never remember a thing or ever wake up. it doesn't feel real, you know that you're dead and you're never coming home. i sat on the bottom step today and waited for you —

and waited and waited until i realised you were _dead. _and it hurt because i expect you to come walking through that door and ask me and louis how our day was. it's strange to think that me and louis are never going to see you again.

and i remember the last thing i ever said to you.

i said i hated you — i didn't and i don't. i was annoyed, i didn't want you to leave dad again. it would have only killed him, he loved you. we all loved you. it's just a shame you thought your life was over there in canada.

i called you selfish. but you weren't, you never were — you always did put everyone else before yourself.

i didn't tell you that i loved you. i wish i did because maybe you wouldn't have died. i wish you could come back, we need you. i'd trade places with you, my life is worth less than yours, after all you're the one who kept us together when it all fell apart.

louis cried himself to sleep tonight. dad's downstairs blaming himself, something to do with karma he says. your father — my grandfather — is most likely at home flicking through the photographs of when you were a little girl. you know, like he does when it's a special occasion.

i remember a conversation you told me years ago. i must have been five, six years and grandma had just died. you were trying to tell me about heaven and you told me to look out my window and there will be a bright sky in the star. you said it was grandma. now, i have two as you're watching over me too.

i want a tattoo. i know exactly what you'd say about the idea; _"Why an earth would you want one of those Renee?" _and i know you weren't always keen on the idea but i think you'd like this one. it's an angel with today's date written underneath it, that way i will never be able to forget you.

i'm going to make you proud of me mummy. i'm going to study hard in my a—levels and get as many A*s as i can. then, i'm going to get into a top university, study medicine and become one of the best doctors this country has ever seen.

because mummy, you're my inspiration and i love you.

with lots of love & billions of hugs; lauren. oxox

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	2. ii — 11th January 2004

dear mummy,

i didn't sleep well last night. i had a bad dream — the monsters were chasing me. i screamed mummy, i screamed and you never came. dad came instead, he sat beside me, pulled me into a hug and told me it was only a nightmare.

it didn't feel right though — only _you _could stop me having nightmares. bless him though, he tried his best. i just screamed how much i hated him and that it was his fault that you died. i didn't mean it though, i was upset. you've got to believe me mummy.

when i woke up it was morning. dad was in the bedroom crying, i left him to it, you know dad, he doesn't like a fuss been made. i woke up louis and made us both breakfast although none of us could stomach eating anything. i stared at the plate of food and could imagine you telling me to eat.

i laughed and shared my memory with louis. he smiled, pushing his cereal around his bowl with his spoon.

i took him to school and took myself off to college. like you, i _had_ to keep myself busy. i'd only think and think and drive myself insane. but i wasn't you. you were strong, able to get on with things when everything was falling apart.

i couldn't so i came home early from college. i went to the park, sat down on the grass and cried.

— and i don't think i stopped crying for hours.

i pulled at the grass. i picked up a couple of daisies. i made a daisy chain. i remembered making you one.

god mummy, there's memories of you everywhere. how am i going to cope? how are we all going to cope without you? it doesn't seem like there's a future without you because you were the sunshine in our lives. now you've gone, there's only darkness and rain—clouds.

— fuck. fuck. fuck.

sorry for swearing mummy, i know you never liked me doing it. you always said it was a shame to see such a beautiful young woman use such foul language and it used to make me laugh so much that my tummy hurt.

as a family, we haven't thought much about the funeral. all we know is that you're going to buried with your mother, it's only fair and dad says that what you would've wanted. just like dad's donated your organs because you were a doctor and you saved lives.

i hope you like it up there, in heaven and this isn't goodbye. we'll meet again. i know we will.

i love you, love lauren. oxox

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	3. iii — 12th January 2004

dear mummy,

it's only been two days. **two **days since god took another angel.

it feels so much longer — stuck in this cycle of sadness, happiness, guilt and worst of all, blame. i blame myself. if only i'd done this or that, perhaps you'd still be here to tuck me and louis up at night.

i didn't sleep last night. i tried but i just couldn't stop thinking. instead, i sat in the living room with a candle and flicked through the family photographs.

i didn't realise how many photographs you kept mother. god there are tonnes, you definitely wanted memories didn't you? i flicked through a photo album and there was one photograph that stuck out for me.

it was you and daddy on your wedding day.

you looked beautiful, that's all i'm going to say. there's no other words to describe you other than you looked like a princess. and you looked happy, the happiest i'd ever really seen you. i went into daddy's bedroom and i woke him up. i showed him the photograph and i thought he was going to start crying again.

i asked a question i'd wanted the answer to for so long, "why did you and mummy divorce?"

and for years, i never really got the answer. you both said i was too young to understand but i'm eighteen now mummy, i'm not a girl. i'm a woman. i'm an adult. god, it makes me sound so grown up doesn't it? . . . i hate it.

dad sighed. dad put down the photograph.

he said he had an affair and that you found out. i accepted it, didn't question why or who it was with. it wasn't my business plus i wasn't mad, just relieved to finally _know _why you'd both divorced.

and you taught me something, never stand for sh—rubbish from men. there's plenty out there, (an ocean full) and strong women don't need men. we can do whatever we want without answering to some testosterone man.

anyway, that's enough about me, how are you?

what's heaven like? is full of happiness and daisies and sunshine the way it's spoken about? or is it plain? and a bit boring for someone of your nature? i bet there's not enough drama for you up there. i mean, to go from holby to somewhere quiet would feel strange for anybody, laugh out loud!

i've got my first exam later. it's biology. i remember you telling me it didn't matter what grade i came out with, you'd love me regardless. i want to make you proud of me. to walk around with a smile on your face and tell anyone who'll listen, "Yeah, that's my daughter."

i'll have to go and revise first before that's possible. i'll write to you soon, byeee.

i love you forever, lauren. oxox

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	4. iv — 13th January 2004

dear mummy,

i took my mock biology exam yesterday. i revised beforehand like i told you i would. in a way it was a good job i did otherwise i wouldn't have known anything. well, except that one question that appeared which i've known off by heart since the age of ten.

i'll get the results back next month. my tutor says i'll be okay. after all, i've got both brains and beauty, laugh out loud. i hope i get the A, if not i'll happily settle for the B because i'll know you'll be proud of me no matter what my grade is.

my next exams are; chemistry, physics, maths and dance. here's hoping i do well in all four, keep your fingers and toes crossed for me mummy.

i'm going out tonight. charleen from college asked me if i wanted to go clubbing. i can already here what your going to say, ("lauren! you're not going out when you have college in the morning.") i promised i won't get too drunk and i'll be home for three.

i'm joking. i'm crashing at charleen's and i don't have college tomorrow. it's closed for something, i wasn't quite listening, sorry mummy. i wish you were here so you could help me get ready for tonight. i don't have a clue what to wear.

sack it, i'm going to wear the blue dress i brought a couple of months ago. if i remember correctly, i didn't have chance to wear it did i? whatever it was got cancelled and it's been in the back of my wardrobe ever since, laugh out loud! that's me all over isn't it mummy?

keep me safe tonight, please mummy. thanks (:

it's your funeral on the fifteenth. dad sat louis and me down this morning and told us. i'm actually scared, no word of a lie. dad's told us not to wear black. we have to wear something colourful. that's left me stuck on what to wear then. i'm thinking the flower dress you got me last summer?

a lot of your old friends are going to be there. i mean, it would be a bit cheeky, if no one showed up seeing as you've done loads for other people. you never thought of yourself, it was always other people. maybe if you'd thought about yourself for once, maybe you wouldn't have died.

. . . i don't know, maybe i'm just looking for someone/something to blame.

i best be getting ready, charleen will be waiting for me.

i love you lots mummy,  
from your little girl, forever. oxox

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	5. v — 14th January 2004

dear mummy,

thank you for keeping charleen and me safe last night/this morning. it was great! like, oh my god the best night out ever. i got drunk, very drunk. actually come to think of it, i probably am still drunk. the amount we drank could've knocked out an elephant!

we had a bottle of wine, several hundred shots, three jugs of jagerbombs and god knows what else, we'd both forgotten at this rate, laugh out loud.

— i got two lads numbers. one, i think he was called josh, the other, daniel. i'm not sure though. of course, i won't ring them or anything. we all had our beer googles on so they probably thought i was attractive and vice versa;

. . . (when really, we're ugly twats)

i got denied entry into one bar for being too drunk according to the bouncer. he was gorgeous so i gave him my number. yes mother, i can hear you giving me a lecture on stranger danger like i'm still in primary school. it's my number, not my address.

i came home with charleen on the bus, fell through the front door, broke the vase in the hallway and tripped up the stairs. i woke up dad but he didn't shout, to be honest i reckon he was too tired, it was four in the morning after all!

and guess what? i wasn't sick :D

fingers crossed, i'm never sick when i've been out clubbing because i really don't like being sick.

i wish you were here so if i was ever sick, you'd be able to hold my hair back for me and tell me it's okay. you know, like you used too when i was a little girl? why do i turn everything into something depressing? i'm sorry.

it's your funeral tomorrow but i don't want to think about it. i feel bad not thinking about it, i feel like i'm letting you down and i'm sorry, again. geez, sorry seems to be my favourite word recently, i hope i'm not boring you with my limited vocab.

i'm going to go now. i promised to go and help dad with something, i'll be back to write to you tomorrow.

i love you, forever and ever.  
love from, lauren. oxox

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	6. vi — 15th January 2004

dear mummy,

they say the meaning of black is death, or evil. it's associated with fear of the unknown. it's negative. i'm guessing that's why dad wanted bright colours at your funeral.

— i read somewhere that combined with other colours, black can be powerful.

. . . (so yeah.)

we buried you today. it's strange to think you're dead even those it's been five days since you '_died_'. you're just resting in your final resting place today, aren't you?

dad cried.

louis cried.

i didn't. i didn't cry until we got home. i took myself to my bedroom, slid down the wall and cried. inside i'm empty, i can't breathe, i miss you so much that it hurts.

you know what i want to do but it's so flipping selfish —

i want to go to the park with a bottle of vodka and sleeping pills and kill myself. louis' got dad, dad's got him. they understand each other, boys will be boys.

only you could understand me. now you're gone and nobody will ever understand me.

and i'm sorry for being so fucking selfish. thinking of myself, as per usual. you wouldn't want me to feel this way would you? well, it's not like i can turn my feelings off, i just wish i'd died instead of you.

you know what, i'm going to sleep before i find myself doing something stupid.

and hopefully tomorrow, the sun will shine.

forever & always, lauren. oxox

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